


Fly me to the moon

by takumiraine



Series: One shots [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background characters - Freeform, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Jokes, Some Alcohol Use, Wing AU, abundant southernisms, let me know if I've missed anything, minimal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 01:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumiraine/pseuds/takumiraine
Summary: Hanzo Shimada refuses to fly out of penance for his sins. Enter one Jesse McCree, who loves flying more than anything else."Fly with me." Jesse beckoned, stretching his own wings and hovering just a few inches off the ground.Hanzo grimaced, "I can't."





	Fly me to the moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Mchanzo reverse bang 2018, my partner, the amazing Kerfuffle - kerfufflewatch.tumblr.com - supplied the art, which will be linked here later, and the idea for the story.

Jesse had always loved to fly. Feeling the wind rushing against his face as he swooped and dove. Being able to drop on an opponent like he was a modern-day Batman didn't hurt either. It made him feel powerful and useful in a battle or when evading one. 

Best of all, flying was the best stress relief he could think of. 

Well, most days anyways. 

When he lost his arm, his whole left side had been a mix of numbness and fiery agony. He remembered very little from that time, aside from one conversation with the doctor that stood out in the emptiness. "My wings..." He could remember choking out, grasping at the doctor's coat with his right hand. "Are they......?" 

"Mister McCree, there really are more pressing matters, like your arm." The doctor's voice was kind but Jesse still got the impression, even through his drugged haze, that he was being talked down to. His grip on the coat tightened, and he pulled at the doctor attempting to make a point even though they didn't move. 

"Damn it! I don't give a rat's ass about that! Can I still fly?" he remembered saying, somewhere between a shout and a snarl. He hadn’t been able to tell, even then, what hurt more, his arm and side from the damage, his throat from the tubes shoved down it during his surgeries, or the thought that he would never fly again. 

"With luck and rehabilitation perhaps." the doctor's voice seemed placating, as if only wanting to give him hope so he wouldn't give up altogether. Vaguely he noticed a nurse injecting something into his IV, which made his head fuzz almost immediately. 

"Luck ain't got nothing to do with it." Jesse's voice was a low growl as his hand lost its grip, and he collapsed back onto the pillows. All too soon the medication pushed him into a hazy sleep. 

It had taken ages to get full use of his wing back after that, and there was still a smattering of scars all over his left side, shoulder to thigh, discoloring the feathers at the tip and in patches elsewhere and leaving them not quite as smooth as the rest of his wings. Still, he had vowed then and there that nothing would stop him from flying at every opportunity. He couldn't believe that anyone who had the gift would refuse to use it. It's what made meeting Hanzo so hard. The man was smart, funny, broken in incredibly compatible ways, not to mention hotter than the sun during the dog days of June in the Mojave at high noon.

He just.... Would. Not. Fly. 

His wings were whole and healthy, but he would. Not. and it was INFURIATING. 

He thought back to Blackwatch, how Genji had watched them do flight drills, him and Reyes and the other winged recruits, with something that Jesse had learned to be visceral want behind his visor. A longing to be up there with them, in his rightful place like he should have been. Shimadas, he learned later on, were all gifted with beautiful wings. Wings that, like their hair, were so black and shiny that they were almost blue. Genji's wings hadn't been salvageable, like the majority of his body, and he had had to adjust to life on the ground. Jesse had spent a drunken night crying for Genji, because the cyborg couldn't anymore. Couldn't cry, couldn't fly, couldn't be happy with who he was. 

When they came back for the recall Genji was a completely different person it seemed. Faceplate off to the side seemingly without a care while he didn't hesitate to be silly and full of laughter, talking animatedly with the omnic monk he had brought with him. Jesse had lost all sense of propriety then, and rushed forward to hug him tight, uncaring of the unyielding metal that covered the remaining bits of Genji's previous life. Genji’s arms looped around him in return and pulled him impossibly closer, mashing Jesse’s face into his shoulder. 

It was, in fact, over Genji's shoulder that he spotted the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on, causing his whole world to stop dead in its tracks.    
   
"-sse? Jesse, are you okay?" Jesse refocused on Genji's words the moment the cyborg put his hands on his shoulders and pushed him back slightly, to look in his eyes. Jesse shook his head slightly and returned the gaze, grinning. 

"Sorry, sorry Genj, it's just... you look mighty good, it's nice to see ya so happy." Jesse told him, patting his friend on the shoulder with his flesh hand. 

Green tinged Genji's cheeks. "Yes, well, I'm going to pretend you weren't staring over my shoulder at my brother and introduce you properly. Jesse, this is my Master, Zenyatta," he indicated the omnic, who raised a hand in greeting, "And lurking back there is my brother, Hanzo."

The pieces clicked in Jesse's mind and his mouth dropped open, eyes narrowing. "Wait a darn minute Genji. You mean your _brother_ brother? The one who nearly killed ya? You brought him here?" Jesse could feel every muscle tightening, the gears in his arm re-calibrating with how hard his fist clenched, and it was only the tightening of Genji's hands on his shoulders that stopped him from pushing past his friend to put a bullet right between Hanzo Shimada's eyes. 

"Jesse, be at peace." Genji said, and it sounded like something the monk would have taught him. "Hanzo is here because he has repented and wishes to right the wrongs of the world, just like the rest of us." 

"Whaddya mean he's 'repented'?" Jesse snarled, taking a step back and retrieving a cigarillo from his pocket, "He tore ya limb from limb! He doesn't just get to apologize and be done with it!" 

"Jesse, it is my decision, and I say he does." Jesse lit the cigarillo and puffed on it angrily. He was mad that Genji's asshole brother turned out to be hot, he was mad that Genji had forgiven his asshole brother so easily, he was mad that suddenly he was the bad guy who flew off the handle over 'nothing'. He was mad that someone with such beautiful wings - even from the distance Jesse could tell they were much prettier than his own - had to be such a jerk. 

"Alrigh'" He said, teeth clenched around the cigar. "Well then if you're so sure, it's nice t' have ya back Genji. An' it's nice t'meetcha Zenyatta," He looked up making eye contact with the dark winged man over Genji's shoulder, "Hanzo." 

With that, he turned and stretched out his wings, a dramatic gesture, before shooting up into the sky, darting back to base, wanting to get out of the uncomfortable situation. He hated having to deal with people who hurt his friends, and honestly Genji was the only friend he had had left coming back to Overwatch. Sure, he knew the others, but they had always been under Morrison's shining light, Genji was the one that he had left from his team. Gabriel was dead, and Moira.... Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Moira was the one who killed him. 

Jesse had heard Genji call after him as he took off, along with some of the other members of the new Overwatch, but he paid them no mind as he raced along arcing up just to dive down again, banking along the side of the compound to one of the roof accesses. He touched down and folded his wings again, before entering the building and heading down to his favorite shooting range, figuring if he couldn't shoot Hanzo, he could at least shoot something.

Logically, Jesse knew that this would have to be something he got over. Logically, he knew that it was very possible that people changed. Logically, he knew that in the course of the decade or so that Overwatch had been down, it was very likely that Genji and Hanzo could have had some reconciliation. 

Unfortunately, Jesse was not able to think logically. The euphoria of his best friend returning had already put him in an emotional state. The emotional whiplash of 'oh god he's hot' to 'oh god he's a hot attempted murderer who tried to kill my friend' left him in a sort of frenzy. 

He knew Genji would know where to look for him, after all, this was the Blackwatch training range that Jesse had loved to frequent the last time around. Honestly if anyone wanted to talk to him this would probably be one of the first places they looked. Ana gave him shooting lessons here, not that he needed too many of those, Gabriel gave him "control your anger" lessons here, which were essentially "I'm gonna do my damnedest to piss you the fuck off and you're gonna ignore it" sessions, and he and Genji had frequent marksman competitions, Genji's shuriken versus his Peacekeeper. 

He didn't remember who won the majority of those competitions, he just remembered how they made him feel. Important and like he had a friend. 

Now Genji was back and different and his world was off kilter and he didn't like it. 

He loaded Peacekeeper without looking, muscle memory leading him through the process. He stretched out his wings once more, then folded them neatly behind him, fluffing the feathers into some sense of order once more. 

He then fell into his familiar rhythm. 

Aim.

Inhale. 

Fire on the exhale. 

Repeat, reloading when necessary. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, before the door swooshed open. Jesse didn't bother looking, assuming it was Genji. 

"Y'know, don't think you can jus' waltz in here, entice me with one of our ol' competitions, an win me over by showin' me shit ain't changed." He told the cyborg, not bothering to look over at him, instead just reloading Peacekeeper and lining up a shot. 

"My apologies, Genji didn't mention you would be here when I came to train." Hanzo's voice startled Jesse, his arm jerking and sending his shot high and wide, causing him to curse. "But by the looks of that last shot you need the training more than I do, so I'll leave you to it." 

"Now you jus' wait a hot second!" Jesse turned now, setting Peacekeeper down on his bench. "That's not fair, y'only startled me because I was expectin' Genji." 

"Genji obviously wanted us to talk." Hanzo stayed hovering by the door, black case in hand. "I suppose he presumed you wouldn't kill me." 

"You've really committed to this whole 'repenting' thing haven'tcha?" 

"I have."

"Then I ain't gonna shoot you yet. But if you show any signs of being dangerous outside of the norm, then I won't hesitate to put you down like a lame horse." 

"If it comes to the point where I thought I would harm Genji again, I would ask you to." Jesse gave him a brief nod and turned back to his target, emptying the rest of his revolver in silence. Hanzo seemingly took that to mean he wouldn't be chased out and went a few spaces down from him to begin to put together his own weapon. 

Jesse was amazed at the finished product, a beautiful bow. Gunmetal and blue, being held in a way that made it seem like it was made just for Hanzo. He watched from the corner of his eye for a while longer, drawing out reloading his weapon again - it was a drawback of only using a six shooter, quite a bit of time was spent reloading - while Hanzo took his first few shots himself. 

"Y'must get called Cupid a lot huh, what with those wings and that bow. I bet you're pretty damn deadly from the air." 

"While I am deadly, I do not fly." 

"Y'what now?" Hanzo's words made Jesse almost drop his gun, hand instinctively going as slack as his jaw. 

"I took Genji's wings from him so I don't use my own anymore. It's penance." 

"I'm sorry Hanzo, you're speakin' English but I swear all I'm hearing is crazy bullshit." 

Hanzo huffed, straightening his back even more, and Jesse could see the indignant fluff of his wings, and focusing on his target. "You do not have to understand it." Hanzo stated, before letting loose arrow after arrow, shifting his stance slightly so he was turned away from Jesse. 

Jesse may not always be super cognizant of other people's feelings on a matter, but he could tell that the conversation was over. He took a moment to look at the unmarred panel of feathers, and the places where Hanzo obviously wasn't able to groom as easily. He knew how that could be. Ana and Fareeha had helped him preen more than once over the years, but he could still feel the way some would need more regular grooming sessions to remember how to lay flat, especially where his shirt would rub against his wings. He also stopped coming to see Fareeha for that once she lost her own wings, and settled for half effective reach arounds pressed up against a wall to aid the stretch of his arms. It was ridiculous to look at, but very few things were pleasant when you were on the run. Thankfully the places where the feathers needed the most work - over his scars - were fairly easy to reach on his own. 

- 

A week after meeting Hanzo, Jesse had been coming out for a glass of milk at three in the morning when he couldn't sleep, only to hear a commotion in the rec room. Hanzo was chasing Genji, climbing over him and furniture trying to get the piece of strawberry shortcake from Genji. "I'm the elder brother, I deserve it!" Hanzo had shouted, leaping over the back of the couch. 

"It is for my boyfriend!" Genji replied, running along the wall and flipping over a chair. 

"You don't even eat! Neither does your boyfriend!" Hanzo had replied, following Genji and attempting to tackle him, only to miss and slide under an end table. 

"My other boyfriend! Besides why should I help you? You tried to kill me!" 

"Damn it! We should have left you in the woods where we found you!" He watched Genji lead Hanzo over the television in a fluid jump, Hanzo gaining on his brother again even as his folded wings knocked something off of a shelf. 

"Leave me and my cake alone or I'll tell Winston you threatened to kill me again!" 

"Give me the damn cake or I'll throw you out the window you walking scrap heap!" 

Hanzo climbed on Genji's back then, and that was when McCree had decided to leave, feeling it was better to be able to claim plausible deniability over anything that got destroyed. 

After that night, he had found it incredibly difficult to see Hanzo as a cold-blooded killer anymore. 

-

The first training exercise with Hanzo found him and Fareeha in the air, on opposite sides as usual, and Jesse couldn't help but take a moment and appreciate how much control she had while flying, even after losing her wings. But that was what an organization with a lot of money could buy you, kickass prosthetics or workarounds. It's what had kept Genji alive. Back in Overwatch's heyday, they had had so much money that turning a quarter of a human being into a mechanically functional person hadn't been much more of a decision than whether or not it was morally and ethically acceptable. 

Hanzo and Ana were also on opposite teams, Ana with him, and Hanzo with Fareeha, and Jesse observed the differences in how they got to their sniper nests. Hanzo through parkour, not even using his wings as stabilizers, and Ana through a burst of speed that took her through the air. 

"Don't get distracted Jesse." Speak of the devil, Ana's voice sounded in his ear, calling him out and sending him airborne, battle plans being changed on the fly to counter the opposing team. Hardlight 'weaponry' was being used, to avoid permanent damage. The name of the game was to get the other team 'out' by hitting their vital zones head on. Simple enough. Clipping a vital zone would emit a series of chirps, which meant 'get to a healer', because if you didn't get 'tagged' by the healer's special hardlight by the time the chirps ended, your equipment buzzed and you registered as dead. At which point Winston called you out and you had to leave the playing field. 

Jesse's main tactic was to stay low, acting as an anti-air deterrent to Tracer's zooming around. To be fair, it had been a much more effective strategy when it had been Gabriel doing it, with his dual shotguns, but Jesse made due. 

The first round had led to him getting shot out by Tracer herself, with a 'sorry love!' as she zapped him square in the chest. He hadn't minded, since this was all for fun, and it wasn't like hardlight actually hurt, not through the layers of gear they had on. When shot in actual skin, it hurt some yeah, but nothing out of the ordinary. 

There was a brief interlude. between rounds, for everyone to get water or use the bathroom and Jesse and Hanzo found themselves on the same bench, waiting for the rest of their team members to return. 

"Lena got you out pretty easily. I suppose those wings are not as good as you seem to think they are." Hanzo remarked, and Jesse huffed a laugh. 

"She's pretty fast. Y'know, I'm sure if you used those pretty wings of yours for more'n show, you'd be deadlier than a rattlesnake in the desert shade." 

"Do you always say such ridiculous things?" Hanzo asked, a frown firmly etched on his features. "Also, I am plenty deadly without my wings." 

"Yeah? Let's have ourselves a friendly wager. You manage to shoot me down before anyone else does, and I'll buy you a bottle of whatever you want. I shoot you down before anyone else does and you buy me a bottle of good whiskey." 

Hanzo appeared to consider it, tilting his head back and forth in thought, piercing at the bridge of his nose glinting in the fluorescent lights. "That sounds fair, provided you have the money to back up your little... wager." 

"Oh sugar pie, I have plenty of money to buy booze. Don't you worry about that." Jesse said with a chuckle, as Winston interrupted everyone through the intercom to remind them that the second round was about to begin. 

Jesse wasn't too worried, a blitz from his Deadeye would take Hanzo down in a second. He waited until just the right moment, shot high into the air and got ready, feeling the power well up behind his eye, and just before he took aim, a bolt of hardlight hit him. Right in the weakest part of his wing, lodging itself firmly into the nerves under the discolored portion, the sudden spike of pain sending him dropping out of the air and smashing to the ground faster than Winston could call him out, wing twitching and cramping from the force of the bolt hitting it. He trudged off the field, stripping his gear as he left, amidst the shouts of his teammates, asking if he was alright. He tried very hard to not let the aggravated injury stop his wing from lying flat but judging by the way it kept bumping his elbow as he walked, he doubted he was successful. 

-

Jesse made it back to his room, and peeled off his shirt, tossing it on the floor in the vague direction of his hamper, before going and sitting on the edge of his bed, stretching his injured wing out and bringing it around him slowly, hands immediately going to the still quivering muscle and beginning to push and rub gently, easing the spasm, shushing it and talking to it like one would a skittish colt. The hit and resulting fall had bent or broken a handful of feathers, and ruffled quite a few more, so he either plucked them out or straightened them, soothing his battered ego and his bruised wing. 

It wasn't so much that he lost the bet, hell he lost a good handful of the bets he made, for higher stakes than just a bottle of booze. No it was the fact that he had made a complete and utter fool of himself crashing to the ground like that. That should have never happened. Being stunned enough to drop out of the sky from a little wing spasm? Rookie mistake. Something Gabe had trained out of him in Blackwatch. 

It shouldn't have happened. It proved he was a liability in the field. Could he have gotten back up and fought through it? Sure. But crashing that hard? Even the lowest and stupidest Talon agent would have pounced on that opportunity and put a bullet through his skull so fast he wouldn't have known what hit him. 

Now he just had to figure out how to avoid having Hanzo prod at his bruised pride any more than he had to. Because if Hanzo was anything like Genji, this would never be let go. Jesse groaned and twisted himself to fall face first into his pillow, only to realize he had lost his hat in the fall. Damn it all. Jesse let out another groan and allowed himself to wallow in self-pity, if only until he knew training would be over. 

It wasn't too much longer before a hesitant knock sounded at his door. He debated ignoring it, groaning into his pillow. He turned his head away from the door. "Athena, who is it?" he asked, eyes closed. 

"It is Agent Shimada with your hat." Athena replied. Genji, no doubt coming to tease him, or Hanzo coming to gloat. He should tell them to go away. But instead he sat himself up, wings spreading out behind him in a stretch. 

"Fine, fine, let 'im in." He didn't bother to grab his shirt, after all, Genji had already seen his scars, and Hanzo would see them eventually, so may as well get it out of the way now. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and waited for the inevitable. 

The door swished open with a pneumatic hiss, and revealed Hanzo, standing with his hat hanging limply at his side, mouth slightly open as if he had been arguing with himself over something. 

Almost immediately, Hanzo's mouth snapped shut, and he turned so he was standing in the doorway proper. "I..." He began, then shut his mouth again, "It was...." He tried a second time, and Jesse would be lying if he had said that he didn't enjoy such awkwardness from the normally stoic and controlled archer. "When you... fell... you left your hat." He eventually said, offering the hat to him, the only part of Hanzo officially in his room. McCree rolled his eyes. 

"You can come in y'know. I won't bite." Jesse could see Hanzo hesitate. "Unless, you're into that kind of thing." The offhand comment was enough to cause a flush to peek up the base of Hanzo's neck. Hanzo squared his shoulders and strode in, letting the door hiss shut behind him. "You can put the hat over there." Jesse gestured to the nightstand as he spoke. 

"The hat... admittedly was not my only reasoning to come here." Hanzo said, setting the hat down and stuffing his hands in his pockets, feigning an air of casualness that Jesse could see right through. There was something on his mind, and Jesse would bet that it had something to do with their wager. 

"Came to tell me what liquor you wanted?" Jesse asked, cutting right to the chase as he went to lean his elbow on his knee, then thought better of it when he felt the pudge on his middle make itself more known. He never had been the type to have showy muscles, but sitting there shirtless, scarred, and covered with enough hair to be mistaken for wildlife, he felt a little self-conscious. 

"What? No! I came to check on you, you fool. We can settle the wager at a later date." Hanzo's arms were folded now, head tilted to look out the one window in his room, though really all it did was highlight the glints of metal in Hanzo's ears and face. Jesse thought they were weirdly attractive, which was funny, because he had always thought they were tacky before. Maybe it was just knowing that the person wearing them was actually dangerous, and not just pretending to be. 

"You came to check on me? Who put you up to it?" Jesse asked, almost suspicious. 

"Nobody. Have your comrades never checked on you after a bad fall?" 

"They know by now when it's just my pride that's wounded." 

"Is that the case here?" 

"Yeah. A bit." 

"Well in that case perhaps your pride will be mended by the time we share the sake you are going to purchase for me." A wry smirk crossed Hanzo's features while he withdrew one hand from his pocket to make a small sweeping gesture, as if he were being magnanimous instead of playful. Two weeks ago, Jesse would have taken this interaction as stuck up and self-serving, but after the incident in the rec room Hanzo seemed more human than ever. 

-

Five days. It took Jesse five days to nurse his pride and acquire one of the best bottles of sake the country had to offer. It took him another two to finally go and knock on Hanzo's door. His wing had healed just fine, there had really been nothing to do for it except stretch the muscles out and soothe them with heat. Which meant he did a lot of flying, soaring high above Gibraltar's base, then out over the ocean. It was peaceful, and he wished he could do it forever. Wished he didn't have to do it alone. 

The suddenness of the light-bulb appearing over his head almost sent him crashing down. 

He'd get Hanzo to fly with him. Bring him out on the cliffs, talk him into going for a fly. He liked to think of himself as the kind of guy who could sell water to a river if he wanted to. Talking Hanzo into flying with him, even though the man had previously seemed so against any kind of airborne activity shouldn't be that hard. After all, he had been told he was an awfully stubborn man, though he preferred to think of himself as simply determined. 

He made his move after dinner one night, just as the sun was starting to set. He knocked on Hanzo's door, bottle of Sake in hand, to tempt him out to the cliff. The door swished open moments later, to find Hanzo sitting seiza, shirtless, hair loose around his face. 

Jesse suddenly felt as if he had been in the desert for days. 

He realized he had been staring, mouth agape, when Hanzo cleared his throat, watching him with an arched eyebrow. Jesse closed his mouth with a small self-depreciating chuckle. He held up the sake bottle in offering. "Was thinkin' it was about time I made good on my end of the bet." 

Hanzo nodded and raised a hand, beckoning him in. "Come, let us drink then." 

"Well, actually, it's a nice evening. Was hopin' we could drink out on the cliffs." Jesse offered a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. Hanzo spent more time than was really required to consider, Jesse knew how whip smart the man was, and decisive when necessary. Jesse just figured Hanzo wanted to see him sweat. 

"That is acceptable," Hanzo said, gracefully standing and smoothing out the creases in his pants before pulling on his shirt, then his jacket, mindful to feed his wings through the slits. The fabric was gracefully closed before Jesse could offer to help, and a part of him lamented the loss. Hanzo walked over to the door, stopping just in front of him and pressing his feet into boots, pausing only to crouch and tie them. Hanzo stood again, catching Jesse staring once more, and gestured to the hall. "Well?" 

Realizing he was blocking the way, Jesse moved with a start, "Right, of course. Sorry, dunno where my mind is at tonight." It certainly wasn't on how comfortable Hanzo's clothes looked, or how the light glinted off the man's piercings. That would just be foolish, after all, Jesse had things higher on his list of priorities than how handsome one Hanzo Shimada looked tonight. Hanzo hummed at him in response, a low note that Jesse almost missed. 

Jesse led the way out to a remote section of the cliffs, where the only sound was gulls crying and the steady crashing of waves. It was his favorite place on base, and always had been. Until now he hadn't shared it. There was a pair of smooth rocks, boulders really, spaced far enough apart that they could both comfortably sit between them if they so wished, though the boulders were large enough that they could sit on top of them as well. 

Jesse swept an arm out in a grand gesture. "Well, here we are, th' best place on base!" He sat on one of the boulders and leaned back against the wall of the building behind them. "What'cha think?" 

"It is a suitable location," Hanzo replied, producing two sake cups from his pockets and passing one to Jesse before sitting. "Sake is a sipping alcohol," Hanzo instructed as Jesse poured, "It is meant to be savored." Glasses filled, the bottle was set between them.

"I'll savor as best I can Sweetpea, but I'm not used to somethin' this fancy." Jesse fussed with his hat to hide his not-quite-embarrassment at having to admit to not being nearly as refined as Hanzo. The sake cup sat delicately in the fingers of his flesh hand, before being gingerly lifted to his lips for a sip. The alcohol burned, but not as much as the whiskey he usually drank. "I can see why y'all sip this." 

"You didn't do half badly picking some up either." Hanzo's admission came with a hidden smirk, mostly obscured by the ceramic and his fingers. Jesse found it endearing enough to soothe his seemingly ever rankled pride. 

The bottle passed in relative quiet, each just enjoying the other's company. Occasionally a playful jibe would be shared, either about Jesse's outdated way of dressing, or Hanzo's outdated choice for a weapon, or either of their choices in friends. They both. of course, meant Genji. 

"Hey Hanzo," Jesse said suddenly, breaking the quiet with his somber tone. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Hanzo replied, brow furrowing. 

"Do you trust me?" Jesse repeated, pillowing his arms behind his head in a gesture of forced calm. 

"You are my teammate." 

"Yes, but do you trust _me_? Not your teammate, just plain ol' Jesse McCree." 

There was a long stretch of silence while Hanzo stared at him, trying to figure out his angle. 

"I.... In spite of myself, I believe I do, yes." Jesse smiled, and stood, walking over to the cliff's edge. 

"Fly with me." Jesse beckoned, stretching his own wings and hovering just a few inches off the ground. 

Hanzo grimaced, "I can't."

"You can. Come here." Hanzo stood, and walked towards Jesse, in spite of his previous answer, wings still folded at his back. Jesse floated out a little bit farther, still in arm's reach of Hanzo, but now out over the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. 

"I have not flown in so long. I cannot anymore." Hanzo shook his head with his admission, and Jesse shushed him softly. 

"Hey now, none of that. Give me your hand." 

"I shouldn't. I vowed I would not fly after I took Genji's wings from him." 

"He don' need 'em now. Look at how happy he is with those boys of his. You deserve that same happiness." 

"You think flying is the answer to that?" 

"Darlin' I think flyin' is the answer to almost everything. Now give me your hand." Jesse's tone stayed light, and his hand was outstretched still. Hesitation shone clear on Hanzo's face. 

Slowly, as if time was moving through molasses, Hanzo reached out. Inch by inch their hands moved closer together, only for Hanzo to pause again just before their fingers touched, and Jesse felt his own breath catch in his throat. 

The first slide of Hanzo's fingers against his made Jesse able to feel every callous from the years of archery practice. There was still a softness that growing up with luxury gave Hanzo, unlike the rough and weathered skin on Jesse's hand. Hanzo was warm, too. And his nails were expertly kept, cuticles well-trimmed and pushed back. Jesse felt himself flush as he realized just how long it had been since he had just touched someone he actually cared about. 

A quick glance up found that Hanzo seemed to be in the same predicament. A laugh bubbled up at how silly they were both being and Jesse pushed his hat back on his head to watch Hanzo. "C'mon now, enough of the seriousness. Fly with me." 

Hanzo spread out his wings, and fluffed them, taking a step towards the edge of the cliff, as Jesse slid back an equal amount. A few more stretches from his wings and Hanzo finally was able to make himself lift off of the ground. Jesse couldn't help grinning like a fool because damn if getting Hanzo 'I won't fly and you can't make me' Shimada to get airborne didn't make him feel like the most important man in the universe. 

"Stop grinning you fool, this is ridiculous." Hanzo's cheeks were colored a faint pink, and Jesse just grinned harder, not taking the mild insult to heart. 

"Sorry, Han," Jesse replied, obviously unrepentant, "I jus' can't help it, I got you to fly again! Not to mention flyin' is the most fun a guy can have with his clothes on." Here, Jesse gave a salacious wink, and the pink tint on Hanzo's cheeks deepened as Hanzo reached out and slugged Jesse in the bicep. 

"Glad to see your ulterior motive for dragging me out here to drink worked," Hanzo deadpanned, and Jesse couldn't help another laugh. 

"Ya caught me. But to be fair I wasn't exactly tryin' to hide it. How about this, since you love competin' and such, we race around the compound. See how outta shape you really are." The challenge was in good humor, and Hanzo crossed his arms in contemplation. 

"The wager?" He asked.

"Winner's choice," Jesse replied. 

"So, if I wanted you to walk around the compound nude for an afternoon?" Jesse couldn't be certain if Hanzo was serious or not, but it didn't matter.

"Aw, hell, I think I did that last Sunday." Jesse's response brought the desired chuckle out of Hanzo. Mission accomplished. 

"Well then nobody will be surprised at least," Hanzo replied, a smile still on his face. "Alright. Let us race." 

"Once around the perimeter of the compound, no shortcuts, First one back here wins." Jesse extended his hand to shake, and Hanzo took it.

"Agreed. And Jesse?" Hanzo started, looking down at their clasped hands. 

"Yeah, Han?" 

"I will see you at the finish line." And with that, Hanzo took off, with all of the speed and grace expected from a Shimada. 

Jesse sputtered for only a second before taking off after him. They wove around poles. They threw themselves around the corners of buildings. They dove under low overhangs. All the while remaining neck and neck. In the end, however, it came down to Jesse just being more used to flying. He pulled ahead of Hanzo just in time to glide past the rocks they had been previously sitting on, and snagging the empty bottle of sake as his trophy. He slowed and turned to face Hanzo, adjusting his hat on his head. 

"How you managed to keep that ridiculous thing on while flying is beyond me." Hanzo huffed, breathing hard and red from a mix of exertion and the wind hitting his face. 

"Practice darlin. Now as for my prize. How's about we revisit that whole, 'walkin' naked around base' thing. I reckon people'd be much more interested in seein' your body than mine, what with that whole 'Greek God' thing you got goin' on." 

"While I'm certain people would enjoy seeing all of me on display, wherever did you get the idea that people would be more interested in me than you?" Hanzo asked, both out of curiosity and as a skillful diversion. 

"Well, I've got a lot of pudge around my midsection now from too much whiskey and I've been told I'm hairier than a sheepdog in shedding season, though some have also compared me to Bigfoot." 

"Well you know what they say about men with big feet, yes?" Hanzo asked, moving closer to Jesse and gently pulling the hat from his head. "In all seriousness though, I have.... found myself having to admit that even with what you mentioned as flaws, or perhaps even because of that, you are rather handsome, and I would not be opposed to spending more time with you." 

Jesse slid forward, as close as he could without their wings tangling and sending them both plummeting several feet to the hard rocks below, and tucked a stray lock of hair back behind Hanzo's ear. It must have fallen out of its bindings while they were flying. "I'd like that very much Hanzo." 

Deciding what he wanted his prize to be, and seeing the perfect moment for it, Jesse began to lean in, giving Hanzo plenty of warning to back away or reject him if he so chose. Jesse watched Hanzo's eyes flick to his lips, back up to his own eyes, then back to his lips, before they slowly closed. Smiling softly, Jesse closed his own. The moment their lips met, however, never came, as Hanzo suddenly dropped out of the air with a shout. Jesse's eyes snapped open and he dropped the sake bottle he was still holding. It only took him an instant to dive after Hanzo, and catch his wrist, pulling the (surprisingly heavy) man to his chest and wrapping his other arm around Hanzo's waist. It took him another moment to right them both in the air, and when Jesse did so, they were only a scant few inches above the ground. Lightly as he could, he touched them down. 

"Hanzo, are you alright?" Jesse asked, eyes wild with alarm. 

"Apologies...." Hanzo stated, grimacing and still clutching Jesse's hat. "I... suppose I should have done a better warm up before pushing my wings like that..." 

Jesse suddenly felt guilty for pushing Hanzo so hard. If there was one thing he knew, it was sore wings. Which is what gave him an idea. "Honeysuckle, when's the last time you let someone pamper your wings?"

"Genji and I used to preen each other's, but since then...." Hanzo looked away, worrying the brim of Jesse's cowboy hat beneath his fingers. 

"Oh Hanny..... we're gonna fix you up just right okay? We'll go back inside, you take yourself a nice hot shower, then come to my room and I'll make it right." Jesse wrapped an arm around Hanzo's shoulders, rubbing at the muscle underneath his fingertips. "You'll be right as rain after I'm done with ya." 

They returned to Hanzo's room, and Jesse gave Hanzo a warm smile. "Now remember, nice hot shower. I'll be back in a little bit t' wait for ya." With that, Jesse left, giving a jaunty wave at Hanzo over his shoulder, fully aware that the other man still had his hat. 

Jesse returned to his own room and went immediately to shower as well. After all, he was gonna be in Hanzo's bed, touching him in a way that most considered intimate, and borderline sexual if not with a family member, so he wanted to smell nice and be clean. Just because he came from a rough background did not mean he didn't know how to perform basic hygiene, contrary to Genji's longstanding Blackwatch belief. He just had never had anyone he particularly cared about impressing before. Wanting to impress Hanzo meant extra steps. Cleaning his beard up a little, making sure all of him was clean, even the parts that he wasn't sure if Hanzo wanted to see. Maybe even especially those. 

One vigorous scrub later, one that included body wash, shampoo, _and_ conditioner, and Jesse was toweling off, ready to trim his beard a little. As the mirror lost the steamy fog, Jesse couldn't help but poke at the areas of his body that time had not been kind to. The burn scars along the side of his chest and down his injured arm, numerous other scars from bullets and blades.... the telltale softness of age starting to fill him out, making him have to poke and prod to find the hardness of muscle lingering underneath the layer of fat. If he was going to be with Hanzo long term, he'd have to get into better shape. Not necessarily lose inches around his waist, but firm himself back up. 

He trimmed his beard and brushed his hair, then exited the bathroom back into his sleeping area. He pulled on a clean shirt and clean pants, aiming for casual, but hopefully not too casual. He debated switching into a pair of his old sweatpants, as if this worked out in his favor he'd be straddling Hanzo's waist while massaging his back and shoulders and they were much softer than his current selection of well-worn denim. However, after hefty consideration, he didn't want to be presumptuous, so he kept his jeans. 

Who knew if Hanzo'd even let Jesse even preen him, much less anything else. He looked down at his metal arm, frowning as he pressed the fingers of his hand together. He had some sensation in it sure, and it was a damn sight better than nothing at all, but he knew it didn't feel human. It tended to be too unyielding, too cold. 

He clenched his fist again, feeling pressure and the fact that the metal was cool, or would be anyways, to the touch, before releasing it with a breath. No use dwelling on that. He didn't want Hanzo to rethink his decision.

Grabbing a container of lotion out of his bathroom, something from a store that boasted that it had been around for ages. He had been the only guy in that place, and it had been incredibly embarrassing to be buying something that boasted a scent of 'a juicy blend of pink lady apple, sparkling champagne, jasmine honey and autumn woods'. Damn if it didn't smell good though. Still, to be safe, he poured the entire bottle into an old airtight container he had lying around, then destroyed the packaging. So nobody on base, like Genji, would be able to fuck with him about it. Most of them wouldn't, but there were a certain few, like Genji, who wouldn't be able to resist conducting the 'McCree's got a stash of lotion' train right past appropriate station and into sex joke junction. 

So now he had a little glass jar with a suction seal filled with lotion in his bathroom. Not a big deal, right? At least it was better than keeping it in his nightstand drawer. 

Making sure to hold the jar safely, Jesse left his room, walking down the hall to Hanzo's door. He knocked, and waited, before the door swooshed open. "Hey Han, I'm ..... here?" Jesse said, realizing the room was completely empty as he walked in. The sound of the shower could still be heard as he removed his boots next to Hanzo's shoes. 

"Agent Shimada would like me to inform you that he is still showering, and will be out shortly." Athena's synthetic voice filtered into the room. 

"Naw, he don't have to rush on my account, tell him to take his time. This is supposed to relax him after all." Jesse walked over to the window as he replied, amazed at how the evening light had faded away to almost nothing in hardly any time at all. 

Jesse wasn't sure how long he stood there, watching the sky continue to darken and stars blink into existence, his own wings fluttering softly as they almost itched to be out there flying again. He could almost feel the cool ocean air sliding over his skin and feathers again, smell the salt spray and hear the gulls settle down in favor of the waves lapping at the rocks. It brought a sense of calm. Eventually he heard the bathroom door open and felt the change in pressure as a rush of steam billowed into the room. 

He turned his head to find Hanzo wearing nothing but a towel, hair laying wet and flat against the side of his head, a vaguely apologetic look on his face. "I did not mean to take so long. Time got away from me." 

Jesse smiled, turning more to face him, but keeping his eyes respectfully on Hanzo's face. Not that it was any real hardship to look at his face, but still. "No trouble at all darlin'. I'm glad you were relaxin' in there." 

"Hot water soothes agitated muscles yes..." Hanzo trailed off, going to his dresser. Jesse respectfully returned his gaze out the window while the other man dressed. It wasn't that they had never seen each other naked before, but in Hanzo's room was different, and the man deserved some privacy in here. 

The soft squeak of the bed is what drew his attention next, and Jesse turned his head to look out of the corner of his eye, only to find Hanzo sitting cross legged and watching him, still shirtless. Which made sense. After all, it was a hassle to get wings into a shirt. Jesse turned and smiled softly, "You still willin' to let me take care of your wings?" He asked. Consent was very important. Nobody wanted some yahoo pawing at their wings after all. 

"I would not have told Athena to let you in if I wasn't going to let you." Hanzo's reply was accompanied by a huff, as if the question was riddiculous and Jesse had no need to ask it. 

"Just checkin' darlin." Jesse half knelt on the bed and gestured for Hanzo to turn around. Hanzo turned, careful not to smack Jesse in the face with his wings and Jesse set the jar of lotion by his leg. Jesse started at the top of Hanzo's wings, near where they sprouted from his back, gently stroking over them from base to tip and marveling at how Hanzo shivered in response as he stretched the wing out as far as it would go, feathers naturally fluffing up. He was sensitive it seemed. Jesse loved it. 

He repeated the action a few more times, before stroking down from top to bottom, following the patterns of his wings. As he went he pulled out some of the broken or loose feathers, creating a small pile between them on the bed. Only after he was certain that there were no imperfections did he begin the process of massaging them. He was careful to smooth Hanzo's natural oils into the wings just so, to protect them from the elements. He started at the base and worked out and down. He could see little tremors running through Hanzo's shoulders, so he paused, concerned. 

"You okay darlin?" The query was met with a quiet huff of air, and a brisk nod. 

"It just.... feels... nice... is all," Hanzo admitted, causing Jesse to lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of his neck. 

"Then I'm doin' my job correctly,” Jesse settled into a sitting position, adjusting the lotion so it was tucked on the inside of his knee. “Y'know, my mama once told me the ideal person t' preen your wings was your soulmate? I dunno if she was right about that, but I'm glad you're lettin' me do this for ya." 

Jesse saw the flush start at the spot he had kissed, just below the back of Hanzo's neck, spreading around and across his shoulders. Jesse could assume that the flush also went up to his cheeks as well. Honestly it was adorable. Instead of commenting and breaking the fragile thing they were building, Jesse decided to make the smarter choice and return to working on Hanzo's wings. 

After a while the flush faded to a light dusting of pink rather than the vibrant almost red it had been before, and Hanzo cleared his throat. "Yes... well.. you are proving that you are not completely inept..." Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Jesse would almost swear that he heard a fond tone to the not-quite-compliment. 

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me Hannykins." Jesse replied, shifting more onto the bed in order to work on the other wing. He followed the same process as before, only this time he dug his thumbs into a particularly tense muscle in the wing that caused Hanzo to draw in a breath - Jesse was certain it was borderline pained - as his shoulders shot up even straighter and his wings fluttered out of reflex. "Easy there... This is the one that seized up isn't it?" Jesse soothed, as if talking to a particularly skittish horse. When the muscle gave and began to relax, all of the tension in Hanzo dropped and he let out a soft moan with his exhale, head falling down to his chest. 

"It is all right now..." Hanzo's voice was soft, almost unsteady, head tilted down towards his chest. Jesse felt so privileged at this moment to see Hanzo with his guard down. Or at least, further down than it usually was. Jesse was certain that if he made one wrong move, Hanzo would have him pinned on the floor in an instant. As tempting as that particular train of thought was, this wasn't about Jesse. This was about Hanzo. 

He continued massaging Hanzo's wings, luxuriating in every soft sigh and softer moan, beyond pleased that he was eliciting that reaction from the normally stoic man. As Jesse finished with Hanzo's wings, he grabbed the jar that he had brought with him, glass now warm from being surrounded with his body heat. Slowly, Hanzo looked up, blinking at him over his shoulder with all the appearance of a drowsy snake. "Are you finished already?" Hanzo asked, causing Jesse to give a low, rumbling chuckle. 

"Only with your wings Buttercup." Jesse stood now. "Lay down on your stomach for me. Okay?" 

Hanzo did as he was told, pillowing his arms beneath his head and closing his eyes again. To someone who wasn't so used to looking at Hanzo (and really who could blame Jesse, considering how absolutely stunning the man was?) he was the picture of relaxation. Jesse however noticed the lines of tension that he was holding in his shoulders from still being on his guard. 

"I'm gonna climb on top of ya now, but I swear on my ma that it's only for better leverage so I can finish the massage." Hanzo cracked an eye open at him, looking almost wary, but pulled a hand out from under his head to make an 'as you will' motion. Jesse put one knee back on the bed, and swung the other over Hanzo's hips, causing him to settle just above Hanzo's ass. 

Jesse couldn't help but take a minute to appreciate, and to calm himself down, reminding himself that this was for Hanzo, not an excuse to try and get laid. As he gave himself that little mental pep talk, he opened the jar with a pop and coated the fingers of his flesh hand in the lotion, letting it warm slightly from his body heat. "This might still be a little cold," Jesse warned before spreading the lotion along the base of Hanzo's wings, the scent of apples and jasmine and trees infusing into the air as he replaced the lid on the jar and dropped it next to them on the bed. 

Carefully he began working both hands around the base of one of Hanzo's wings, working in the lotion and easing the muscles before switching to the other for a little while. As he felt the tension begin to leave Hanzo he couldn't help a smile, glad Hanzo was finally getting the pampering he deserved. 

A little more lotion and Jesse moved up above Hanzo's wings to his shoulders, over his shoulder blades and those trapezius muscles that Jesse had been wanting to touch since the first time he had seen them in their Greek sculpture glory. He dug the heel of his palms into the muscle and Hanzo let out a moan that Jesse swore was borderline pornographic. He paused briefly and swallowed, before returning to the massage, only to hear Hanzo mutter an embarrassed "sorry..." as the color returned to the back of his neck and across his shoulders. 

"Don't need to apologize darlin," Jesse replied, digging his palms back into that spot. "This is about makin' you feel good so..." Jesse shrugged, trailing off as he worked slowly outward from the knot, focusing on other, smaller ones before circling back again. "I'm kinda flattered actually, I'm glad it's that good for ya."

"I am a Shimada," Hanzo huffed, "I should have more restraint." 

"Fuck restraint Han," Jesse said, lightly flicking his shoulder in response. "Restraint is the reason you're knotted up worse than a box of Christmas lights. If something feels good then you should enjoy feelin' it." 

"Perhaps." Hanzo admitted, and Jesse worked inward towards his spine, using his thumbs to smooth the muscles along that tight column of his neck and along the top of his spine. 

"I"m serious Sweetpea, if things feel good they deserve to be done. 'S why I was more worried about my wing than my arm after that accident. Flyin' feels _good_ so I wanted to keep doin' it. Smokin' and drinkin' feel good, so I keep doin' that even though Angie keeps harrassin' me to quit. Don't let nobody tell you what ain't good for you." As he talked he followed the column of Hanzo's spine down until he was at the dip in his lower back, and back up. 

Hanzo pushed himself up onto his elbows and turned to look over his shoulder at Jesse, wing flattening out so he could be seen. "Is that your stance on relationships as well?" 

"Well... I'm gettin' too old for hookin' up with anyone who bats their eyes at me. But if I find someone who makes me happy, who I make happy, and they wanna have a relationship, I'd go for it quicker than a dog after a bone. Y'know?" 

"Do I make you happy McCree?" Hanzo asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I wouldn't be doin' this for you if you didn't." Jesse replied, meeting Hanzo's eyes. "Do I make you happy?"

"I think you do." 

"Glad we came to this agreement then." Jesse smiled softly at Hanzo, mischief twinkling into his eyes. "So does this mean you're gonna come flyin with me again?" 

"Perhaps. If we can have a repeat of this afterwards." Jesse gave a soft laugh at Hanzo's wheedling for another massage. 

"I think that can be arranged." Jesse leaned in and closed the gap between them, finally, _finally_ brushing their lips together softly, full of affection and adoration. The kiss stayed innocent, just a meeting of two people, lips learning to move against each other's. Jesse brushed his nose against Hanzo's as they moved apart, smiling like an idiot. 

"Fool," Hanzo muttered, affection tinging his voice. 

"Yeah, maybe. But I'm your fool now." 

"Yes. You are." 

**Author's Note:**

> the amazing artwork~~~ http://kerfufflewatch.tumblr.com/post/177280416986/title-fly-me-to-the-moon-rating-t-tags-wing


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